The Seven Sapphires of Mardi Gras (35 page)

Amid jeers from his friends and a scoffing voice proclaiming, “See how Nathan takes orders from his woman?” he obediently released me. He turned to Christine, confused and a little angry. “Where have you been all this time, anyway?”

Christine stepped out of the shadows to prance before us, delightedly aware of the approving looks on the faces of the fantasy beasts that had gathered around. The blue velvet dress hugged every curve of her well-proportioned body. “I went back to the house. By the way, Nathan, how do you like my dress?”

“I liked the green one,” he replied gruffly. “Why did you change?”

Christine turned to me, her gray eyes sparkling. “Well, I’ll bet Louise likes my new costume, don’t you, Louise?”

I ignored her question. “Do you have any idea of the trouble you’ve caused tonight?” I demanded, gingerly rubbing at my arms. But my scolding fell upon deaf ears. She looked at me, her face registering genuine surprise.

“Why, what do you mean, Louise?” she asked innocently.

“I want to know why you are wearing Elica’s dress!”

“Dress?” she repeated, glancing down at the folds of soft velvet. “Oh, the dress!” She picked at the gauzy veil in her hands. “Well, after I had been at the masquerade a while, I began to feel sorry—about trying to make you look like Elica and all. I was afraid you might still be sulking in your room, and I didn’t want you to miss all the fun. So I went back for you. Only you weren’t there,” she continued. “When I went up to your room, it was empty. And then I saw it! Elica’s dress!”

There was an odd, dreamlike quality to her voice as she went on. “It was my favorite of all her fine clothes. I always thought it was so lovely. And there it was, just lying all crumpled upon the floor. At first, I only meant to try it on. And then I put on the mask and veil—I just couldn’t stop myself! It’s so pretty, and I’m pretty in it, aren’t I, Louise?”

I looked over at her, the child-woman, her wide eyes glittering with excitement. The upswept hairdo made her seem much older than her years. The neckline of the velvet gown had been tampered with and showed just a little too much of her bare neck and shoulders. Edward would be scandalized. But yes, she
was
pretty. Pretty in a way that I had never noticed before.

Now I realized that the shapeless riding clothes that she usually wore hid the grace of her slim body. With her long hair streaming loose about her face, she gave the impression of being plain, almost boyish. But now, the sophisticated hairdo brought out the delicate cut of her features. It accentuated the large, luminous eyes, full, wide mouth, and smooth, olive complexion.

Looking at her now, I felt a chill of apprehension. Her appearance suddenly disturbed me. Something about the dark hair and blue velvet. She looked so much like the miniature of Elica! Why, except for her eyes, which were gray instead of black, and her slightly pointed nose, she could have modeled for the miniature herself.

“If you meant no harm, then why did you come to the masquerade dressed like this? And I saw you beckoning to Nicholas, teasing him, making him believe that you were a ghost returned from the grave. Hadn’t you put him through enough torture for one evening?”

“But I wasn’t gesturing to him at all!” she retorted defensively. “Honestly, I didn’t even know he was here. I was looking for Nathan.” She swallowed hard. “I wanted to surprise Nathan by coming back in this new disguise. But when I returned to the dance, I couldn’t find him anywhere. I—I guess I was a little scared,” she continued. “So I climbed up on one of those big cypress logs to see if I could spot him. And that’s when you must have seen me waving.”

She had been walking on a log! So that explained how she appeared to be floating. So the ghost had been Christine; the person following me through the woods, Nathan. There seemed to be a plausible explanation for everything.

The color suddenly drained from her face, making it pale and pinched. Her lips trembled slightly. “I guess it wasn’t such a good idea after all, was it? Coming here in Elica’s dress, I mean. I—I just didn’t think!”

I shook my head sadly. “You never do, Christine.”

“Now you are mad at me, and Nicholas hates me, too!” Tears of self-pity filled her eyes and I braced myself for another one of her scenes. “I wish I’d never come to the Mardi Gras! I should have stayed home—”

Her tirade was interrupted by Nathan, who had slipped away from his friends to join us. He came up to whisper something into Christine’s ear.

My duties as a chaperone nagged at me. Even though I had no doubt that Christine could take care of herself, the hour was growing late. I did not like the idea of leaving a young girl alone in this rather secluded part of the masquerade with a half-drunken escort. “Christine, it’s time we were going home.”

“But it’s not even midnight.” The stormy, rebellious look that I knew so well was already settling over her sharp little features.

“Christine, I want you to come with me.” I could hear my voice rise with determination.

Her small chin jutted out, and the illusion of polished beauty crumbled. Once again, she looked every inch the spoiled child. “I won’t! You can’t make me!” Before I could stop her, she began to run away into the darkness.

“Christine!” With an exasperated cry, I started after her. I had only gone a few steps when a hand touched my arm. I spun around uneasily, remembering my unpleasant encounter with Nathan earlier. But something appeared to have sobered him.

“She’ll not come to you now, the stubborn girl,” he said with a weary sigh. I studied him for a moment, surprised. His absurd face smeared with its red paint contrasted oddly with the
sincerity in his dark eyes as he said softly, “It’s me she needs now. Don’t worry about her. I’ll see her back to the house.”

I regarded the young man before me with open suspicion. But he did seem sincere, almost apologetic. When he was not full of spirits, he was a likable enough lad. Though his clothing and manners were rough, I sensed that his affection for Christine was genuine. In my heart, I knew that he was right. Christine would never come with me now. I had no choice but to turn her over into his care until I could find Edward.

I moved away into the heart of the masquerade to search for the other members of our party. I wondered if Ian had become worried about me. It had been some time since I had left him.

And Nicholas. I dared not think what might have become of Nicholas! Again and again I was tortured by the shock and horror upon his face as I had come down the stairs in Elica’s dress. And those eyes behind the mask! I had caught only a fleeting glimpse of his burning black eyes as he watched Elica’s ghostlike presence materialize out of the darkness of the masquerade. But that one look had turned my blood to water.

As I wandered through the crowd, the image of Christine in Elica’s dress continued to haunt me. She looked so much like the woman in the miniature, much more than I had. With her hair piled high, the sun-lightened strands hidden, the resemblance was striking. She could have passed for a younger sister. It was no wonder that she caused such a disturbing reaction. It was as if a ghost had indeed returned from the grave!

Chapter Twenty-five

Midnight had come and gone. As I wandered down the heart of the carnival street, I noticed that almost all of the people in costume had unmasked. The crowd had scattered; most of the families had gone home. Near the water’s edge, the dancing still continued. Musicians, drunken or exhausted, played only in sporadic bursts. But the remaining dancers didn’t seem to mind. Peals of wild, abandoned laughter filled in the gaps between songs, seeming to follow me as I walked uneasily past, searching for Ian.

I looked down, aware of the ruin the parade and dance had made of the village streets near the water’s edge. The gutters were littered with horse droppings. Half-eaten confections and popcorn were trampled into the damp earth. A spattering of raindrops from the sky hastened my step. Where was everyone? I glanced anxiously from face to unfamiliar face. Few women were still on the streets at this hour; most of the stragglers were young men who had partaken heavily of brandy and wine. The restless tension of the remaining crowd was almost as visible as the turmoil of the bleak sky overhead. A strong gust of wind blew from across the bayou. Flashes of lightning illuminated broken streamers floating in the air, searching for places to land upon the lampposts, courtyard gates, and confetti-strewn trees. The merriment of carnival night was gradually giving away to chaos.

I approached the end of the alley. The bonfires were dying; empty stewpots showed their blackened bottoms. Old women were busy cleaning up. But there was still no sign of Ian. Anxiously, I wondered if he might have returned without me. Though the little pirogue was still dancing in the dark water, he
could have walked or caught a ride with Lydia and Edward in the carriage. The terrible thought struck me that they had all gone home.

I couldn’t blame Ian if he had gone back to Royal Oaks without me. After all, I had left his side without even saying goodbye. He would be justified in being angry. But surely Edward and Lydia would not both have left without knowing Christine’s whereabouts. Or would they? I thought about the casual way they treated her comings and goings. I looked up and down the street, searching for Edward’s carriage. With a feeling of relief, I spotted the huge, dark-wheeled shape in the distance. So I had not been deserted, after all!

I started back toward the music near the water’s edge with renewed heart, searching diligently for a familiar face or costume among those that remained. Bedraggled witches and demons still danced against the light of the moon, faces now gleefully revealed. Some seemed friendly, others as menacing as the masks they had removed. I studied each passing face, my anxiousness returning. Where had everyone gone? It was as if they had all disappeared, swallowed up by the night.

Suddenly, in the flickering light of the bonfires, a glimpse of something drew my attention. I turned, only to catch sight of a man and a woman embracing in the obscurity of the trees. Embarrassed, I started to look away when, from where I was standing, the amber glow again caught the rich sheen of spotted silk. I glanced back, drawing in a quick breath of surprise. The woman in the shadows was Lydia!

I peered out into the darkness, trying to steal a look at the man who was with her. Was it Ian? I had to know! But shadows from the drooping trees shielded his face, concealing his identity. Some dark garment, a cloak or cape, surrounded him, making him appear formless. As I stood watching, he slipped back further into the obscurity of the trees.

Frustrated, I turned away. Obviously, this was no time for me to interfere. But I had only gone a few steps when I heard a voice call my name. I looked back over my shoulder. Lydia was coming toward me now, the coppery glow of the firelight making her hair blaze a brilliant red. Like a harlot’s, I could not help thinking. The arched cat’s brows and shimmering costume
accentuated the unflattering effect. As she came nearer, I saw that her face was pale against the black fur collar, her eyes dark and shadowed.

“Have you seen Edward?” she asked in a voice that was unusually tense and strained. I knew that the man hiding in the shadows had not been her husband! Covertly, I glanced into the windswept trees. Her lover, whoever he had been, was gone now. For all her nervous manner, it was obvious that Lydia believed she had noticed me first. She was not aware that I had caught her in a stranger’s embrace.

I shook my head. “I haven’t seen him all evening.”

“We were separated during the dancing, and I’ve been searching for him ever since,” she explained with an edgy laugh. “Well, perhaps he went back to the house,” she added weakly. With a tinge of anxiousness, she inquired, “And Christine? Is she still here?”

“Yes”

“You’ve seen her? Where?” There was a touch of relief in Lydia’s voice. Perhaps she cared more about the wayward girl than I had thought.

“She was with Nathan a short time ago,” I replied. “Over there.” I gestured toward the darkness of the cypress grove. “I don’t want to interfere, but it’s getting late—” I stopped in mid-sentence. The frightened look upon Lydia’s face startled me. She seemed to have turned even paler. She was looking off into the darkness of the tangled trees. Was she searching for some sign of the man she had been with? I watched her, puzzled. She did not look like a woman who had just left a lover’s sweet embrace. She looked terrified!

“Lydia—” For a moment, I feared that she was about ready to collapse. I took a step toward her. “Lydia, is something wrong?”

“N-no.” She was looking at me, but her green eyes seemed blank, empty, as if she didn’t really see me. There was a vague, dreamlike quality in her voice that made me wonder if she had been taking the laudanum drops again. “Something happened tonight—earlier—” she confessed faintly. “I thought I saw—but it’s not possible—I thought I saw—”

“Elica’s ghost!” I finished for her.

She stared at me, the empty look draining from her eyes.

Color started to come back into her cheeks. “You saw her, too?”

“Yes, but it was no ghost we saw,” I hastened to explain, “It was Christine!”

“Christine?”

“After we left the house, she returned and put on Elica’s blue velvet dress, the one that she had planned for me to wear.”

I saw her entire body stiffen. Her smile had become ghastly, as unreal as the grin of a Mardi Gras mask. Her voice was thin and wispy, yet the sound of it sent tingles of horror up and down my spine. “She’s wearing Elica’s dress?”

“Lydia—”

A haunted look came into her eyes as she backed away from me. “I—have to go,” she said in a strange whisper. ‘‘You’re right. I must find Christine. It’s time she was going home.”

“Lydia, wait! I’ll come with you,” I cried, but she did not slow her pace. I stood in awe, watching her stumble away toward the grove of trees near the water’s edge.

A hand suddenly slipped through my arm, startling me. “So there you are, at last!” I spun around to face Ian. ‘‘Where have you been, Louise? I’ve been searching all over for you!” His expression was pleasant, but there was an odd look in his amber eyes. “I haven’t seen you since that mannerless brute in the black cloak stole you away from me.”